


A Little Bit of Magic

by worrisomeme



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Dragon Natasha Romanov, Enemies to Lovers, Faerie Bucky Barnes, M/M, Mage Steve Rogers, Major Character Injury, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky Secret Santa 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 07:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13142247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worrisomeme/pseuds/worrisomeme
Summary: In which Steve is a shape-shifting mage living on the streets, Bucky is a faerie with one hell of a stash, and a little bit of magic (and thievery) brings them together.





	A Little Bit of Magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenoftheRandomWord42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheRandomWord42/gifts).



> This is my entry for the 2017 SteveBucky Secret Santa Exchange - A gift for Queenie (queenoftherandomword on tumblr)! ^_^ Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy it!!!<3

The fae closes the door behind him and makes his way - brown hair hanging down to his waist and gold jewelry draped around his wrists and throat - to where the dragon (in her redheaded human form) waits for him at the sidewalk. They’re both wingless for now and the dragon hands the faerie some kind of coffee drink as they head out to wherever they’re going for lunch today.

The white cat sits in the same spot he has off and on for a month now, watching them from across the street. He waits patiently until the pair disappears around the corner before hopping across the street and through the brownstone’s cute little yard. Once around the back of the house, he bounds up porch stairs and across patio furniture until he comes to the window he knows will be open to let in the fresh air.

He stops on the floor just inside of the window and pauses for a long beat, listening for alarms or any guards or enchantments that might have been triggered by his presence. When, as expected, nothing happens, he prances forward a couple of steps and then in the blink of an eye he lets himself slip back into his human form – his true form.

Now skinny and short and blond once again, Steve sets to his task. The selection of runes and glyphs stand out black against his pale skin as he picks his way through the house. He knows that somewhere in this house there’s a beautiful trove of magical items. _Faerie_ items. _Valuable_ faerie items that might keep him from having to eat garbage scraps for a few weeks.

He’s just found the fae’s stash when suddenly he hears the unmistakable sound of faerie wings from outside.

Fuck!

He snatches the first enchanted thing he can get his hands on – a necklace with some kind of glamor on it – and makes a run for the stairs.

“Hey!” comes a shout from the front door.

Fuck!

Steve hops the railing and lands gracefully in the hall before darting toward the back of the house, the faerie chasing after him. He drops the necklace as he leaps through the open window and by the time the faerie makes it to the backyard there’s no trace of any little blond thief.  

There is, however, a small white cat cleaning its paws under his lilac tree.

 

*

 

Having lost the necklace, Steve is _fucked_. But for what it’s worth, the mage never finds himself without a backup plan. He stays in his cat form and hangs around the little row of brownstones hoping someone will take pity on a stray animal. He also tries to gather more intel. In case he decides to give it another go.

On the fourth day, his plan finally works.

“Privet malyy kotyenok,” the dragon coos to him curled up on a garden wall as she and the faerie approach the fae’s home.

Steve perks his ears up and meows up at her.

“I’ve been seeing that cat around a lot lately,” the faerie comments.

“He looks hungry,” she says, reaching a hand out and petting his head gently. He lets out another soft meow. “Poor baby. Are you hungry sweet thing?”

The faerie rolls his eyes as Steve purrs and mewls and nuzzles into the dragon’s hand.

“Come on sweetie, I’ll give you some food,” she continues to coo as the pair makes their way onto the patio.

Steve hops to the ground and trots along behind her happily. She sits down on a step and opens the paper bag in her hand. She pulls out a sandwich and rips off a few small pieces, holding them out to the cat. And Steve doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything as good as this fucking sandwich. But maybe that’s just because he hasn’t really eaten much of anything at all in a long time.

“You want something to drink?” the faerie asks her, but doesn’t wait for an answer before disappearing into the house.

“My name’s Natasha, and that is James,” the dragon continues, petting him as he eats from her hand.  “You can call him Bucky though.” Steve looks up at her and meows an acknowledgement and a thanks, then finishes the last bite and curls up at her feet. He doesn’t really mind living life as a cat, he thinks. Maybe he’ll just stay this way forever.

 

*

 

He takes a liking to Natasha and she takes a liking to him in return. He starts spending most of his time on her porch or in Bucky’s back yard. She babbles at him in Russian and he doesn’t understand it but he starts to find it comforting. He lets himself grow attached in a way that he hasn’t since… well, he doesn’t like to talk about it.

So that must be why, when he gets attacked by a naga and finds himself thinking he’s much closer to death than he’s happy with, it’s Natasha’s door he finds himself at, mewling and pawing and whimpering. He’s got a gash in his throat and one in his leg and he’s bleeding a _lot_. If he gets much weaker he’s not sure how long he’ll be able to keep this form, but he’s also not sure how long he’ll remember to worry about that, so he has to get help _fast_.

Dragons have magic, he vaguely thinks, as he scratches at the redhead’s door. Faeries do too, even more powerful. But he doesn’t want to be in that kind of debt to Bucky, frankly. The guy just barely likes him as it is – definitely a recent development.

“Fuck,” he hears the familiar voice hiss as the door opens and he topples into the house. “Fuck, come here sweetie. What happened to you?” she coos, gently picking him up and examining his wounds as she makes her way back into the house.

“What’s going on?” James asks, emerging from the living room. “Oh shit.” And there’s sympathy even in his voice.

Or maybe Steve’s just hallucinating it. Things are starting to get fuzzy, muffled, dark. Natasha brings him to the living room and lays him down on the rug in the center of the room and he’s not really thinking straight, he’s barely conscious, so he knows even before it happens that he’s going to slip from this form. And soon.

Even in his half-conscious state he knows when it happens. Natasha and Bucky have just wandered back into the living room ( _when did they even leave?_ he thinks) and Natasha lets out a surprised laugh while James just mutters, “Motherfucker!”

Natasha looks at her friend, questioning and still giggling, and crosses her arms over her chest. “What’s the issue?” she asks.

“He’s the one that broke into my house last month!” he replies, gesturing toward the blond bleeding out on the carpet.

“Huh,” is Nat’s initial response. To which she follows up with, “Well, shit, I mean, can you blame him? Look at him. He looks like he hasn’t had a proper meal or shower or night’s sleep in…” she shakes her head a little, the thought sobering her. “I don’t want to think about it. Come on, let’s heal him. We can talk about this later.”

And that’s the last thing Steve hears before everything goes black.

 

*

 

When Steve regains consciousness he’s in a bed, warm and soft, wearing what must be some of Natasha’s clothes, and through the open door he can hear Natasha and James arguing downstairs.

“You can’t be serious Natasha,” the faerie says with a raised voice, bells tinkling angrily in the quiet house.

“Of course I’m serious,” she replies. Steve imagines the way she’s probably got her arms crossed over her chest. He climbs out of bed as gracefully as he can with his current wounds and inches toward the doorway, hoping he’ll be able to hear better.

“Natasha, he tried to steal enchanted jewelry from me! He’s been masquerading as a cat! We don’t know what he is or what his intentions were!” The way he rattles his points off he sounds like he’s repeating them for at least the third or fourth time.

“Did you see him? He’s living on the streets _as a cat_. He’s either a shifter or a mage, he’s gotta be. My money’s on mage based on those tattoos. And his intentions were _clearly_ to make some money, probably to buy some food or some new clothes or something, jesus Buck,” she sighs, exasperated with her friend. She’s probably made this argument a couple of times herself. “I’m letting him stay with me. End of story. You liked him well enough as a cat, so you might as well get used to the idea of liking him as a human.”

“He’s awake,” the faerie grumbles, and Steve curses quietly under his breath.

Natasha lets out a little ‘tch’ and whacks him. “Look at what you did.”

He stumbles and pain shoots up his leg, drawing a quiet hiss as he makes his way down the stairs.

“And he heard what you said,” he mutters as he passes Bucky in the living room. “I wasn’t trying to steal your stupid faerie secrets or anything, damn. But do you know how much that kind of shit goes for? A man’s gotta eat.”

“You’re no man,” James replies with an unamused quirk of his brow.

“Cats gotta eat too,” Steve grumbles, without missing a beat, as he gently lowers himself onto the couch. “Look,” he addresses the dragon now, “if you’re serious about your offer, I’ll stay here until I’m healed – it won’t take long – but that’s it.” He gives a wave of his hand and the blood stain starts removing itself from the carpet.

“We’ll negotiate that later,” Nat replies, watching with a pleased grin as the carpet gets cleaner and cleaner until its back to its normal state.

“Keep cleaning like that and she won’t _let_ you leave,” Bucky snorts.

“You know how us dragons are,” Nat smirks and winks, breathing the end of her sentence with a puff of smoke.

 

*

 

Steve’s in the kitchen scribbling in a notebook while a traditional Irish stew stirs itself on the stove. In the oven a second batch of cupcakes are baking and Steve lets out a thoughtful hum, his eyes trailing back over what he’s just written. He’s been healed for a few weeks now and he had tried to insist the streets were okay for him, but Natasha wouldn’t hear it. He wonders how long she’ll let him stay, what he can do to repay her. Maybe, he thinks, he can call up his old teacher – Nick Fury. He’s heard Fury set up shop nearby. Maybe he can start working there. But can he handle something like that again?

“First you’re cleaning for her, now you’re cooking?” Bucky asks, his head peeking around into the kitchen, snapping Steve out of his own thoughts. “She really isn’t going to let you go if you keep this up, I hope you know.” He chuckles and shakes his head as he disappears around the wall, making his way to the living room.

“Wait!” Steve shouts, starting to chase after the faerie. He snaps his fingers and one of the half-cooled cupcakes rises and follows him into the living room.

He practically hears the fae roll his eyes but Natasha points over his shoulder from her spot on the couch and says, “He’s got something for you.” James lets out a soft sigh and stops abruptly, turning to face the mage.

Steve skids to a halt just behind him, the cupcake stopping not quite in time and bumping into the other man’s chest. Natasha just about loses it, but James looks unamused.

“Look,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest, “it’s not like I really need to, since I didn’t actually steal anything from you, but I wanted to apologize, okay? For… _trying_ to steal your jewelry or whatever. Hence the cupcakes.”

Bucky eyes the cupcake warily for a moment but it bops in front of him a little and he finally grabs it out of the air. “Thanks, I guess,” he says, picking a piece off the cake and popping it into his mouth. His face lights up and Steve can’t help the smug grin that spreads across his own.

“Dinner will be done in twenty,” he says then turns on a heel and heads back into the kitchen.

As he goes he hears Natasha say, “He is an _excellent_ cook.”

He misses the softening of the other man’s expression and the hint of a smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth.

 

*

 

The door slams behind the faerie when he lets himself into Natasha’s house. He’s cursing and muttering under his breath as makes his way into the living room.

“Natasha!” he shouts, peering into the kitchen. “Goddamn demons,” he grumbles under his breath. He lets out a groan when the only person he finds is Steve.

“She’s not here,” the blond says sharply. Then he turns and his face softens. Bucky’s left hand is damn near shattered and the wound across the top of his wrist looks pretty deep. “Shit,” he breathes. “What happened?”

“Goddamn motherfucking demon,” he grumbles again, clutching his injured hand to his chest. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

Steve purses his lips and lets out a little hum as he shakes his head. “C’mere,” he says, motioning even as he takes a step forward. The knife goes on chopping on its own behind him.

Bucky hesitates, eyeing the blond warily, but Steve just steps closer still and gently pries his injured arm away from his chest. “Healing is one of my specialties,” he says.

“You don’t have to –“ Bucky starts, but Steve just shushes him. He carefully takes the faerie’s hand between his own. The palm of his bottom hand glows green while he makes handshapes and traces patterns just above the other man’s skin.

Steve’s brow furrows in concentration and a moment later both the hand and the wound are completely healed with almost no scarring. Steve reaches up with his shaking right hand and brushes a glowing thumb across Bucky’s cheekbone, healing a small scratch there as well that the faerie clearly hadn’t even noticed.

“Thanks,” Bucky mutters. And as he’s inspecting his own hand he misses the fresh scar that’s now across the blond’s left wrist. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Steve shrugs as he turns back to the food that’s still cooking itself. “I’m a healer,” he says. “It’s what I do.” Bucky hovers in the doorway while Steve disenchants the utensils and dumps everything into the bubbling pan on the stove.

“Apparently you’re also a chef,” James jokes with a quiet, almost apologetic chuckle.

Steve just shrugs and says, “Natasha should probably be home soon if you want to go turn the TV on and wait.”

The faerie hesitates for a long moment in the doorway and Steve feels his eyes on him, though he refuses to turn around, as curious as he is.

 

*

 

Steve and Natasha are curled up on the couch when she says it. “You like him.”

Steve blushes bright red and practically chokes as he turns to her, eyes wide and mouth open. He sputters for a minute before practically shrieking, “What did you just say?!”

“You like him,” she repeats, slower this time as if he actually hadn’t heard her. “Just admit it.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” he crosses his arms over his chest and slouches a little, tries desperately to appear nonchalant, but fails miserably. “Has all that dragonfire fried your brain?”

Nat smirks and quirks an eyebrow at him. “He likes you too,” is all she says.

And the mage actually laughs at that one. “No. He does not,” he says matter-of-factly. “Which is just fine,” he adds, “because I don’t like him either. And anyway, what is this? High school?”

Natasha just keeps staring at him, eyebrows raised, for a long moment. She opens her mouth to say something else but is cut off by the front door slamming open.

“Steve!” comes Bucky’s voice, panicked. “Steve! I need your help!”

The blond jumps to his feet as the faerie rushes into the living room, an unconscious mermaid in his arms. He’s sure for Nat this is reminiscent of the day he himself got attacked by that naga. Fuck.

The mermaid has a gash across her stomach and a gaping puncture wound in her shoulder and she’s bleeding out all over James. Steve can sense how little life she has left in her and he springs into action.

“Put her on the floor!” he orders, dragging the coffee table out of the way.

Bucky sets her down gently and then backs away quickly. Steve drops to his knees, hands already glowing green and ready, and rests one hand over the wound in her shoulder and the other over the one on her stomach. He doubles over in pain instantly, his face pulling tight with it, but he tries his best not to let it show, to make it look like he’s just leaning over her, just working, nothing wrong here. He knows what this is going to do to him, but he has to save her.

“Is there anything I can do?” Nat asks hesitantly. She and Bucky are huddled nearby watching, holding their breath, ready to move if they can help at all.

Between the pain getting worse and the concentration required for a job like this, it takes way too much effort for him to just shake his head. His hands and knees are getting covered in blood, but the wounds are already healing under his touch. His breath is becoming labored and he feels himself drooping, but he’s almost done and he’s determined the finish the job.

A fresh wave of pain surges through him and he lets out a feral scream as he forces out the last bit of energy he can muster up. The glow subsides and he pants as he droops further, his hands coming to his knees to support himself. He drags a hand across his forehead to wipe the sweat from it and smears blood in its place. He glances up and Bucky’s expression is unreadable, but Natasha, at least, looks impressed.

“She’ll be fine now,” Steve manages, barely. He waves a hand weakly and the blood starts cleaning itself from the carpet and the mermaid, but he doesn’t bother with himself. It’s already starting to dry on him. “She’ll be weak for at least five or six days, but she’ll be fine.”

“I’ll take her home,” Natasha offers, already bending down to pick the mermaid up. “Buck, you help Stevie get into a shower. And get some food in him,” she orders, already heading out the door.

“’M fine,” Steve insists, but he’s sagging and slurring and the faerie shoots him a look.

“You’re so damn stubborn,” he chides him. He bends down and loops an arm around the small of his back, pulling him to his feet. “Let’s get you in the shower and then I can make you some food.”

“You cook?” Steve slurs, teasing, as the faerie practically drags him upstairs and into the bathroom. At least his breathing is mostly back to normal.

“Of course I cook,” Bucky snipes half-heartedly as he sets him on the edge of the bathtub and helps the mage out of his shirt.

He can’t quite fight the gasp that pulls from his chest when he sees the scars. Welted and red-purple and stark against his pale skin, by far the worst he’s received in a long time, are the new ones from the mermaid. All around and under them are mostly smaller, more faded scars decorating his chest. He knows his back looks the same, but his arms and legs are covered in enough tattoos to make them less noticeable at least.

_“He likes you too.”_

Natasha’s words echo in his brain and, okay, maybe he had developed a little crush without realizing it because it suddenly hits him that Bucky’s eyes are on his bare chest and he turns bright pink.

“You, uh, don’t have to stay,” Steve insists, even though it’s already taking all of his strength just to stay upright on the edge of the tub. “I can handle it.” All of his usual fire is nowhere to be found.

“You clearly can’t,” James says with a raised eyebrow just a little too much sass. He must catch himself, though, because his expression and tone both soften as he stares at the mage for a long moment before reaching over to turn the water on. “I don’t mind,” he says quietly. “If you _really_ don’t want me here that bad, I’ll go. But it’s obvious you need help.”

Steve’s cheeks flush again and he tries to get up, but ends up stumbling and falling to his knees. “Shit,” he hisses, his breathing becoming ragged again just from the effort that small, failed gesture took. Bucky rushes over and helps him to his feet.

“It’s just, usually a guy’s gotta take me on a date before he gets to see me naked,” Steve jokes weakly as the fae unbuttons his pants. And it’s not a mistake that he feels Bucky’s heartrate pick up or sees just a slight hint of pink high on his cheekbones, that the other man’s hands hesitate just a fraction of a second.

“You will be sassing the devil on your deathbed, won’t you?” James teases him, breathy and half-hearted. “Alright, let’s go,” he says, more sure this time, helping the blond out of his jeans and into the shower.

“Probably,” Steve replies, letting himself drop to the floor of the shower and slumping against the wall.

The silence stretches on for a long moment as James takes a seat on the floor next to the bathtub and both men watch the pink water circle the drain at Steve’s feet. There are scars even there, some his own, some inherited. He realizes the blood will take forever to wash off this way, but he makes no real effort to speed up the process.

Finally the faerie lets his eyes drift back to Steve’s face and he says quietly, “That was incredible. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

Steve’s head flops a little in an attempt at a shake. “It can’t be that far off from what you and Nat did for me,” he insists.

Bucky shakes his head quickly. “No way. Me and Nat stopped your bleeding and stitched your wounds. You actually _healed_ her. You took on her pain – don’t try to deny it, I saw it on your face. Hell, you took on her _scars_. I’ve never seen _anything_ like that before,” he repeats.

Steve’s eyes flick up to meet the faerie’s briefly, darting away just as fast. He knows he would be blushing again if he wasn’t already flush from the heat of the water. “Can you go grab me something clean to change into?” he asks timidly, changing the subject.

“Oh, right, yeah, sure,” James rambles, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks,” Steve calls as he leaves the room. Once he’s alone again, he turns the water off and forces himself to his feet. This time, at least, he succeeds. He even manages to step out of the tub and grab himself a towel, wrapping it around his waist. He peers at himself in the shower, at his soaking hair dripping water down his chest, at his new scars. He wonders if they’ll ever fade completely.

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” Bucky’s voice from the doorway startles him a little. “Natasha just called,” he says as he closes the distance between them, clothes in hand, “she’s going to be a while, but she ordered a pizza for us.” He helps the blond into his fresh clothes as he talks. “Said it should be here in fifteen or twenty.”

Steve nods weakly, grateful that Bucky had grabbed him pajamas, and lets the other man support him just a little as they make their way back downstairs. “Looks like I’m getting that date after all,” he teases.

Bucky stiffens just a little, hesitates, then finally asks, “Is that… is that something you… might want? A date? With me?” Sounds like Natasha has had the ‘you like him’ talk with him, too.

Steve’s breath catches in his throat and he doesn’t answer for a long moment. “I mean… I wouldn’t… be opposed,” he says finally, ever wary of showing too much of his heart. “You have been kind of a jerk, though.”

“To be fair,” James replies quickly, laughing, “you did try to steal and sell my enchanted jewelry, ya punk.”

Steve laughs too now and gives a nod. “Alright, alright, fine,” he says, holding up a hand. “I’ll give you that one.”

“So is this a date then?” Bucky asks as he helps the blond onto the couch.

Steve smirks up at him and shrugs. “Might as well be, I guess,” he says, “you _have_ already seen me naked.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this, especially you Queenie!<3 Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Comments and kudos and the like mean the world to me!
> 
> And, as always, you can find me on [tumblr](http://worrisomeme.tumblr.com)! ^_^ Let's be friends!<3


End file.
